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the best punishment you can inflict upon him. You may be assured that he will always be able to do more mischief to you than you would choose to do to him. He attempted to be revenged, not long since, and I will tell you how he succeeded.

"He one day caught a bee that was hovering about a flower, and was about to pull off its wings, out of sport, when the animal found means to sting him, and then flew in safety to the hive. The pain put him into a furious passion, and, like you, he determined to take a severe revenge.

"He accordingly procured a little hazel stick, and thrust it through the hole into the beehive, twisting it about therein. By this means he killed several of the little animals; but, in a few moments, all the swarm issued out, and, falling upon him, stung him severely in many places.

"You will naturally suppose that he uttered the most piercing cries, and rolled upon the ground in the excess of his agony. His father ran to him, and with the greatest difficulty rescued him; but he was so much injured as to confine him to the house for several days.

"Thus, you see, he was not very successful in his pursuit of revenge. I would advise you, therefore, to pass over this insult, and leave others to punish him, without your taking any part in it."

"I must own," replied Philip, "that your advice seems very good. Go with me to my father, and I will tell him the whole matter. I value the cane

only as it was a present from my father, and I wish to convince him that I take care of every thing he gives me."

He and his friend then went together, and Philip told his father all that had happened. His father thanked Stephen for the good advice he had given his son, and gave Philip another cane equally as good as the first.

A few days afterwards, as Philip was riding along upon his father's horse, he saw this ill-natured boy sitting by the side of the road and crying bitterly. Philip stopped his horse, and asked him why he cried The boy replied that, in getting over the wall, he had hurt his foot so badly that he could not walk.

So.

Philip then kindly offered to assist him in getting home. He got down from the saddle, helped the boy to get on, and then walked by the side of the horse till he came to farmer Robinson's house. After helping the boy dismount, and go into the house, he went on his way.

Young Robinson was now quite ashamed of his bad behavior to Philip in breaking his cane, and heartily repented of it. Philip went home quite satisfied with himself, because he had assisted one he did not love, from pure motives of tenderness and humanity. "This," said he, "is the noblest revenge I could ta - returning good for evil."

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I met a little cottage girl;

She was eight years old, she said; Her hair was thick with many a curl, That clustered round her head.

She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad;
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
Her beauty made me glad.

"Sisters and brothers, little maid, How many may you be?

"How many? Seven in all," she said, And, wondering, looked at me.

"And where are they? I pray you tell." She answered, "Seven are we; And two of us at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea.

"Two of us in the churchyard lie,

My sister and my brother;

And, in the churchyard cottage, I
Dwell near them, with my mother."

"You say that two at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea,

Yet ye are seven: I pray you tell,
Sweet maid, how this may be."

Then did the little maid reply,
"Seven boys and girls are we;
Two of us in the churchyard lie,
Beneath the churchyard tree."

"You run about, my little maid;
Your limbs they are alive:
If two are in the churchyard laid,
Then ye are only five."

"Their graves are green; they may be seen," The little maid replied,

"Twelve steps or more from mother's door, And they are side by side.

"My stockings there I often knit,

My 'kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground I sit;
I sit and sing to them.

"And often, after sunset, sir, When it is light and fair,

I take my little porringer, And eat my supper there. 7*

"The first that died was little Jane;
In bed she moaning lay,

Till God released her from her pain,
And then she went away.

"So in the churchyard she was laid;
And when the grass was dry,
Together round the grave we played,
My brother John and I.

"And when the ground was white with And I could run and slide,

My brother John was forced to go;
And he lies by her side."

"How many are you, then," said I,

"If they two are in heaven?"

The little maiden did reply,
"O master, we are seven!"

"But they are dead-those two dead
Their spirits are in heaven."
'Twas throwing words away; for still
The little maid would have her will,
And said, "Nay, we are seven."

LESSON XXIII.

The Battle of Blenheim.

It was a summer evening;

Old Kaspar's work was done,

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